


Together, We Belong

by lavenderlotion



Series: Belonging [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Alpha Derek Hale, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Family Feels, Good Alpha Pack, Good Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intimacy, M/M, Making Out, Mates, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scent Marking, Scenting, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Has Panic Attacks, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Alpha Pack, Stiles Stilinski is Pushed Out of the Pack, Stilinski Family Feels, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Werewolf Bonds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: It’s been a week since Stiles killed Gerard. His pack bonds have settled, his relationship with his dad is stronger than ever, and he has a mate who seems to understand him better than Stiles ever could have imagined.He still doesn’t want to go back to school.His dad tells him that he can’t avoid it forever, and heknowsthat, but it doesn’t make him any less reluctant. He tries his very best to tell himself that he’ll be fine, knowing that his pack will be there with him. He’s stronger than ever before. There shouldn't be anything to fear.But while he can try to ignore his old pack, he’s not sure he can ignore their new English teacher who reeks like darkness.And... then there's the darkness inside his very own pack. Has Stilesreallyfound a place to belong?
Relationships: Aiden/Ethan/Cora Hale, Danny Mahealani/Jordan Parrish, Deucalion/Stiles Stilinski, Ennis/Kali (Teen Wolf), Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski
Series: Belonging [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010193
Comments: 290
Kudos: 596





	1. Welcome to... Beacon Hills High!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A year and a half later... here we are! I'm so excited to be back, and I hope you are too <3
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [AuguriesofInnocence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuguriesofInnocence)!

Stiles stretched his back as he came to, slowly rising towards consciousness. He grumbled under his breath even as he nuzzled forward, running his nose down the line of Deucalion’s neck. Sleep was still close. Close enough that all Stiles wanted to do was let it pull him back under. He knew he couldn’t, and he made a grumpy noise, even as he cuddled closer to the supernatural warmth his mate was letting off. 

Their legs were so tangled together Stiles could barely get his cold feet pressed against Deucalion’s warm,  _ warm _ calves, but he let out a sleepy breath of accomplishment when he managed. Deucalion grumbled out a rolling growl that pulled a snicker from Stiles’ throat as he rose even further into wakefulness. 

“Mornin’,” Stiles slurred into Deucalion’s neck, leaving wet, trailing kisses from his shoulder up to his hairline. 

Deucalion growled again, though the sound wasn’t nearly as teasing as before. Stiles’ heart kicked up in his chest, moving to match Deucalion’s own quick patter. “A very good morning to you, darling,” Deucalion rasped, his voice  _ deliciously _ deep and rumbly with sleep in a way that ran Stiles’ blood warm. 

Stiles made a soft noise from somewhere deep in his throat as he hugged Deucalion closer. His hand slid up Deucalion’s stomach, resting against the centre of his chest. The short hair on Deucalion’s chest tickled Stiles’ palm as he flattened his fingers across the man’s pec. “D-Did you sleep alright?”

“I slept wonderfully in your arms, sweetheart,” Deucalion told him quietly, and then he was pulling away, moving enough to turn over and draw Stiles close. Stiles’ breath stuttered in his chest as their hips met, and a flash of  _ shame  _ curled around his belly when he realized Deucalion was hard but he wasn’t. 

But Deucalion didn’t do anything further than pull Stiles close and twine their legs together. His hand was warm and heavy against Stiles’ bare hip, curling around him possessively in a way that sent a shiver racing down Stiles’ spine. He tried to focus on the sentiment of Deucalion’s words and not what his body  _ wasn’t _ doing.

“And you?” 

“I slept really good too,” Stiles whispered, his voice quiet and weak but still audible in the still room. He took a deep breath and pushed aside his stupid guilt, and instead focused on the soft smile that curled around Deucalion’s lips. “I really like being the big spoon.”

Deucalion’s smile went wider, and Stiles couldn’t stop himself from leaning in to steal a slow, warm kiss. He sucked in a breath through his nose, letting the woodsy scent of his mate wrap around him. Kissing was still new and Stiles felt nervous as he caught Deucalion’s top lip between both of his own. His heart tripped against his chest as he gave it a little suck, and it only sped up even faster when Deucalion growled deeply. 

Stiles kept kissing him softly. Their lips moved together in a way that flooded Stiles’ belly with heat, but his body didn’t react to the warm arousal swirling around his gut. He tried to focus on what he  _ was _ feeling; Deucalion’s lips were warm and soft again his own, his hand was smooth sliding up and down his spine, his legs so, so warm tangled together with Stiles’. 

Stiles tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter what his body doing, all that mattered was being close to his mate. 

His mate, who pulled him even  _ closer _ until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. The hair of Deucalion’s thighs tickled Stiles’ legs as he pressed closer, and he let out a quiet groan when Deucalion licked into his mouth. 

They kept trading wet kisses until Stiles forgot to breathe through his nose and had to pull back with a soft moan. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, certain he was going to see disappointment on Deucalion’s face if he opened them. 

“Darling,” Deucalion said roughly, taking a long, deep breath and then pressing up to get his face in the curve of Stiles’ throat, “you have no idea what your scent does to me.”

“M-My scent?”

“Mhm,” Deucalion growled, pressing wet kisses to Stiles’ neck. “You smell like a roasting fire when you grow aroused. Your scent darkens, deepens, and I—”

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers dug into the shifting muscles on Deucalion’s back. 

“I didn’t—” Stiles cut himself off with a soft moan as Deucalion’s teeth scraped against his neck. Deucalion hummed, peppering a few closed mouth kisses to his skin as Stiles arched his back. “I didn’t know you could smell that.”

Deucalion made a noise of agreement before he growled, “Fucking  _ delicious.” _

Stiles startled back a little at the profanity. Deucalion’s eyes were glowing so brightly that Stiles couldn’t keep eye contact, so he dropped his eyes to the hint of stubble on Deucalion’s jaw and then leaned forward to feel the rough, scratchy hair against his lips. Their bond was  _ singing _ between them, thrumming with a heady warmth that felt like arousal as it sang through Stiles’ blood. 

He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, tilted his head back as Deucalion growled and kissed him like he was  _ claiming _ him.  _ Gods, _ nothing had ever felt so good before, and Stiles rolled his hips, just a little, into the warm weight of Deucalion’s arousal and thought maybe,  _ maybe _ something would happen.

Then Stiles’ alarm went off. 

Fuck. 

He flopped onto his back with a deep breath, sucking in the stale air of his room after a night with his door closed. He quickly reached for his phone to cut off the ringing and groaned. Deucalion was still rumbling through short, growling breaths of air, his hand spread wide over Stiles’ lower belly. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of something that  _ wasn’t _ his gorgeous, sexy mate growling beside him, hard and wanting because  _ Stiles had kissed him.  _

“Oh my God,” Stiles breathed, still a little too breathless for his liking. 

Deucalion chuckled warmly next to him, a soft, sweet noise that made Stiles’ heart flutter. Even a month ago, he  _ never _ could have imagined that  _ Deucalion, _ the self-proclaimed Demon Wolf, could be someone that Stiles... loved. 

_ Shit... _ did he really love Deucalion?

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Deucalion told him, so genuinely that Stiles’ throat closed up around a lump of emotion. Oh, crap. Deucalion patted his belly and said, “No, up you go. Get dressed. Give me a show.”

Stiles barked out a startled laugh, rolling closer to give his mate a hug. “You dirty old man!” Stiles teased, nipping Deucalion’s collarbone before he rolled away. 

He stretched properly once he was standing, rising onto the tip of his toes and reaching for the ceiling as he arched  _ everything. _ His back popped  _ just _ right and he let out a soft sigh as he settled back onto his toes. Stiles did a quick glance around his room, frowning at the pile of dirty clothing in the corner. Hm. That needed to be dealt with. 

He was turning around to ask Deucalion if the older man would mind if Stiles walked him through the laundry room, mouth already opening to ask, when he noticed the man’s eyes were glowing bright red and focused on his body. 

“Oh my god, are you  _ leering _ at me?” Stiles asked with a laugh, picking a sock from the floor and tossing it at Deucalion’s arm.

“It is not my fault I am mated to such a pretty young thing as yourself,” Deucalion told him. Then, because he was absolutely horrible, he stretched his arms over his head in a way that was  _ very _ distracting, especially considering how low their blanket had fallen.

“R-Right. Pretty. Yes.” Stiles swallowed heavily, feeling a stirring in his groin even if it was too little too late. “Ya know. I think we both a-are doing good. In the mate department. With our mates. Yep. Uhm... could you like, stop doing that please?” 

Stiles’ voice had risen several octaves when  _ Deucalion started to flex, _ like,  _ every muscle he had, _ and he cleared his throat several times as he tried to bat away the last dredges of arousal that were making him want to crawl back into bed and totally ignore the fact that he  _ really _ needed to go to school. 

Deucalion laughed again, but he  _ did _ stop flexing. His eyes also stopped glowing, but he got himself settled with a few pillows propped up behind his back. Stiles laughed at him even as he moved over to his dresser. 

“Would you be able to do a load of wash for us? I’m not sure if the rest of the pack has anything, but I know Peter will be able to show you around the laundry room and help out.”

Deucalion let out a rumbling growl, his eyes flashing briefly when Stiles looked over at him. “I love the way you care for our pack, darling.”

Stiles flushed, but he still moved over to give Deucalion a sweet, short kiss. “I love the way you care for our pack too, Alpha.”

Deucalion caught his chin and drew the kiss out for another few seconds, and Stiles brushed his hand down Deucalion’s head and gave the ends of his hair a gentle tug. 

“I need to get ready for school,” Stiles whispered against his lips, and he made a questioning noise when Deucalion recoiled with a look of mock-disgust.

Deucalion narrowed his eyes, and said, “Oh, what a way to kill the mood, darling. Please do not remind me that you’re in  _ high school _ when I have my tongue in your mouth.”

Stiles barked out another laugh, shoving Deucalion’s head gently. “Hey! It’s not my fault your wolf decided to, like, imprint on me!”

“A Twilight reference?”

“What’s worse, that I made it or that you understood it?” Stiles teased, sticking his tongue out as he finally moved to grab a pair of jeans. “Ugh. I can’t believe I have to go back to school  _ and _ that I have to go back to school wearing this.”

“Truly?” Deucalion asked. He only expanded when Stiles turned around with a questioning noise. “Neither Cora, nor Ethan, would truly force you to wear something that made you uncomfortable. If you wish to wear your old clothing, then please, do so.”

“Oh, no it isn’t... it’s not that I’m uncomfortable?” Stiles trailed off as he tugged the black jeans up his legs, letting out a breath as he did them up. He had a mirror attached to the back of his door, and Stiles slowly made his way over to look at his reflection. In the mirror, he could see Deucalion’s head tilt to the side, no doubt following him with his ears. “I... don’t know?”

Deucalion didn’t say anything. Stiles was glad, since even  _ he _ didn’t really know what he was thinking. He looked at himself in the mirror, doing his best to ignore the few newer scars that he still wasn’t used to seeing littered across his torso. The pants fit him in a way pants had  _ never _ fit him before, tight all the way from his thighs down to his ankles but not skin tight, either. 

Looking at himself in the mirror wasn’t something he’d ever spent a bunch of time doing. He’d never felt a need to, but he knew that the way he looked now was  _ not _ how he’d looked at the start of last year, or, even, at the start of the summer. 

It made something heavy drop in his stomach, but he wasn’t sure why. 

“You said I was pretty,” Stiles finally ended on, but he wasn’t sure what else to say. 

“Yes,” Deucalion told him easily. Something twisted low in Stiles’ gut until Deucalion added, “Darling, I think that you are absolutely stunning. Not only are you beautiful to me, physically, but I could never ask for a better Emissary to stand by my side.”

Stiles ducked his head when his cheeks heated up. There was something about the way that Deucalion was speaking that made him feel warm and nervous, even though just minutes ago they’d been in bed together, making out. Which still felt like a dream, considering the fact that he’d just _ made out _ with a hot older man in his bed after spending the entire night curled around him. 

But... it wasn’t a dream. And Deucalion,  _ his mate, _ thought he was attractive. Who cared what a few people thought? 

Totally not Stiles. 

Right? 

“High school sucks, Deuc,” Stiles whispered. “I like that you think that, but... no one else ever has? I—I had a crush on this girl for a long time. Everyone knew about it, since I wasn’t really the most... subtle? At all? One time I saved up and bought her a television, so, ya know. Yeah. I just... people knew, and she was  _ really _ open about not wanting me, like, at all.”

Deucalion growled loudly, and when Stiles looked over his eyes were glowing red. “No one else will ever get to treat you that way.”

“Whoa there, possessive wolf,” Stiles joked as lightly as he could, but he still went a little breathless as Deucalion looked steadily in his direction. 

“My apologies, sweetheart,” Deucalion said softly. “I find the idea of you with another to be quite... upsetting.”

Stiles pushed warm comfort down the bond, which got him a smile. “Don’t worry, I feel the same. Just without the wolfy growling.”

Deucalion didn’t say anything right away, which Stiles also appreciated. Stiles tended to word vomit out his feelings more often than not, but he appreciated that Deucalion took his time to think before speaking, especially when Stiles was feeling as poorly as he was now. 

“No one should have treated you that way. For what it is worth, Ethan has assured me that you don’t look... different, per se. He did promise that they made a genuine effort to keep you comfortable, though apparently, your clothes fit you outrageously poorly.”

Stiles chuckled as he moved away from the mirror. He knew that they’d tried, and Stiles  _ liked _ the clothes, really! He just wasn’t sure if he felt comfortable in them.

“What is this all about?”

Stiles sighed and hung his head. “I guess I'm just... worried about going to school? Is that dumb?”

“I don’t think it’s dumb at all, darling,” Deucalion assured him gently, but firmly enough that Stiles actually believed him. “Only a week ago you went through something life-changing. I can only imagine how you’re feeling. I know that you’ve been sleeping better, which I am absolutely thrilled to see, but I can only begin to imagine what else you’ve been going through.”

Stiles hummed as he searched for a shirt to wear. He really liked the soft purple one, but... would it be too out there? He’d never worn anything like that before. 

Did it  _ matter? _

With everything that had happened over the last couple of months, but even over the last few weeks, Stiles felt like a brand-new person. It only made sense for him to look the part, didn’t it?

“It’s been... I don’t know. I feel different. Lighter? I guess? I knew that Gerard being alive was kinda hanging over my head, but... I guess I didn’t realize how much?” Stiles pulled the shirt over his head and felt silly, and not just with what he was wearing. He should be able to articulate his thoughts. “N-Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

Stiles turned to step away towards the door, but Deucalion’s hand shot out and gently grabbed his wrist. He was pulled between the Alpha’s thighs, who had moved to the end of the bed without Stiles realizing. Deucalion drew him into a hug, his head resting against Stiles’ stomach and his arms coming up to hold him close. Stiles melted into it, draping his arms across Deucalion’s shoulders and leaning down to kiss the crown of his head. 

“Nothing that you are feeling is stupid,” Deucalion told him, words muffled by Stiles’ shirt. “I am here for whatever you need, darling. I am here to listen, even if you’re not sure of what words to use.”

“Thank you, Deuc,” Stiles whispered. He tilted Deucalion’s chin up for another sweet kiss, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling into it. 

Deucalion pulled back with a hum, and he tugged at the edge of Stiles’ shirt as he asked, “Are you wearing the purple shirt, by chance?”

“Yeah?” Stiles said, surprised. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever worn before, but... I’m a different person than I used to be, too. I might as well dress the part, and Ethan said it looked really good on me!”

“I am absolutely certain that it looks wonderful on you,” Deucalion told him. “Don’t forget just how much of you I’ve felt, darling. You’re a strong little thing.”

“Deuc,” Stiles whispered, embarrassment flooding his cheeks and making them burn.

“One last thing then,” Deucalion told him, rising from the bed and moving expertly across Stiles’ room to his dresser. The bottom drawer held a lot of Deucalion’s sweaters, and he pulled out a dark grey one that was threaded through with purple lines. “Ethan brought this to me and told me to pair it with the purple shirt. I’ve been wearing it around so it would carry my scent and... I’d like for you to wear it today.”

Deucalion took a deep breath, and his face was serious as he looked down at him. “You do not have to. My wolf has bonded with you, yes, but you are still your own person. I know that I can be... that I can be possessive. At best, I’m often  _ too _ possessive. But it is because I care for you in a way I have  _ never  _ cared for anyone else. 

“I gave up on finding a mate a long time ago, Stiles. Finding you, bringing you into this collection of Alphas I’ve called a pack, being my Emissary... Stiles, I—”

Stiles kissed him firmly, wrapping his hands around the back of Deucalion’s neck to keep him close. 

“I’d love to carry your scent with me,” Stiles whispered against his lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Deuc. Our pack? I don’t even have words for how much they mean to me.”

Stiles kissed him again, and he slipped the cardigan on with a happy noise. It wasn’t  _ huge, _ but it was certainly a size or two too large, and looked like it. “I like that I can take part of you with me. I... don’t want to leave you today.”

“Good,” Deucalion rumbled. “I don’t want you to leave me either,” Deucalion told him before he playfully nipped at the air in front of Stiles' nose. “Now, aren’t you going to be late?”

Stiles looked over at the clock on the bedside and swore when he saw the time. “Oh my God!” Stiles squeaked, rushing to his end table to get his phone then moving to the door, then  _ back _ to his dresser for socks, then to Deucalion for a kiss which was  _ really _ quick, and then  _ finally _ out the door. 

At the top of the stairs he realized that he forgot his backpack, so he rushed back to his room and almost collided with Deucalion, who was putting on pants, so Stiles patted his bum in apology and then rushed downstairs. 

Stiles hopped down the last three steps and blew out a huge breath when he landed. He shook out his arms as he stood up, focusing on the warmth of Deucalion in his chest and the way each of his bonds felt. He could tell that the rest of the pack were all awake and that his dad wasn’t home. It was crazy just how much he was able to get from them after such a short time, and it only highlighted how little his old pack had cared for him. 

Stiles let himself draw comfort from the assortment of bonds he could feel shining brightly, and pushed away all thoughts of people who didn’t care about him. 

A smile fell over his face as he collected himself. He may be worried, but it didn’t actually matter what anyone but his pack thought. The kids at school had never liked him before and Stiles hadn’t ever cared for much more than a passing curiosity of  _ why,  _ so why the hell would he care now? 

Stiles tucked his phone into his back pocket and tossed his bag to the front door, rolling his shoulders one last time before he moved down the hall. 

The kitchen was packed when Stiles rounded the corner. Ennis was at the sink washing a pot, Peter was draped over the counter next to the coffee pot, and Cora was sitting on the counter beside him. Stiles’ smile only stretched wider at the way his pack had so thoroughly made themselves a home in his life, all because he’d had the guts to offer himself up to The Demon Wolf in exchange for his friends. 

Wow. Well, Stiles sure as hell knew how to make lemonade out of lemons. 

“Good morning!” Stiles called, slipping on his socks as he hopped into the kitchen. 

Peter straightened up and turned towards him, so Stiles beelined over to him. “Good morning, pup.”

“Is Dad already at work?” Stiles asked, cuddling into Peter’s side and ducking his head down so the older wolf could scent him easier. 

“Yes, your father headed out quite early today,” Peter grumbled, which pulled a laugh from Stiles’ throat. 

“Butthurt that he left you alone?”

“I may love the man, but his penchant for waking up early is absolutely disgusting,” Peter grumbled, and then went a little pink. 

Stiles beamed at him, hugging him tight and digging his chin into the wolf’s neck to scent him back. Out of all the amazing, life-changing things that had happened over the last few weeks, his dad and Peter finding one another was one of the best. 

Stiles was opening his mouth to say something appropriately sappy to commend the situation when Ethan barrelled into the kitchen and crashed into the island with wide, glowing eyes. 

“Stiles! You’re finally awake! C’mon! Ennis made you a burrito but you can eat it in the car. We’re going to be late!” 

Ethan waved his arms about as he spoke, and Aiden sedately sauntered into the kitchen after him, a picture of perfect calm. 

Stiles laughed at the wide set of Ethan’s eyes and the  _ very _ quick way he was rushing his words together. He pushed off of Peter when Cora hopped down from the counter, and he said, “Whoa, I didn’t know you were such a stickler for rules?”

Aiden snorted, and passed Stiles a travel mug from  _ somewhere  _ as he explained. “He isn’t. But he wants to make a dramatic ass entrance as a pack and we can’t do that if everyone is already in class, can we?”

Stiles tossed his head back with a laugh, but he pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek then darted over to give Ennis one too. “Thanks, En!” 

Ennis’s arm wrapped around his shoulder as he tucked Stiles close, and he placed a kiss to Stiles’ temple before quickly digging his chin into his hairline. “Good luck today, kid.”

“Thanks, En,” Stiles whispered. 

He took another second to soak up the warmth of his... pack member? Ennis wasn’t a beta and he wasn’t  _ Stiles’ _ beta, either, but he  _ definitely _ wasn’t Stiles’ Alpha, so. Huh. Ennis was kinda like a cool Uncle, honestly, and while Stiles knew where he fell in the pack hierarchy, he wasn’t quite sure how to refer to him. 

He made a note to ask Deucalion about... well actually, they had a lot that they needed to talk about when it came to the pack, but he also knew they had time. 

Stiles was just about to move away when Ethan made one of the most dramatic sounds that Stiles had ever heard, and the young Alpha rounded the counter to grab his wrist and tug him through the kitchen “We’re leaving! Goodbye! We’ll see you all later!”

Sties laughed as Ethan tugged him to the front door, only letting him up long enough to pull on a pair of black converse before he was tugging him out the front door, where Aiden and Cora were already waiting with wide smiles. 

“Ennis we’re taking the jeep!” Aiden called, and the last thing Stiles heard before Cora was pulling the door shut was Ennis’ growl and Peter’s ringing laugh. 

* * *

Ennis’ jeep was  _ huge. _ Seriously, ridiculously, huge. Aiden and Ethan took the front, so Stiles piled into the back with Cora. He spent most of the drive in silence, listening to Ethan and Cora talk about a show they’d watched the night before as the three of them fell asleep. Stiles wasn’t totally sure what that meant, since he was pretty sure Ethan had been sleeping in the basement, but he didn’t question it. Maybe Ethan slept in the armchair? It wasn’t the  _ most _ comfortable, but Stiles had definitely passed out on it a couple of times before, so it was certainly sleepable. 

He did his best to focus on the conversation between the other three in the car as he scarfed down his burrito. He didn’t particularly  _ want _ to eat, but he knew starting today on an empty stomach would be nothing but a bad idea. Also, the burrito was amazing. As they drove through town, he idly wondered where Ennis had learned to cook so well.

As they neared School, Stiles didn’t ask how Aiden knew the exact route to get there. It wasn’t  _ complicated, _ but he seemed just a little too familiar with it for him to be following directions. He tended not to think of the whole murderous past thing, and he was just glad that he wasn’t the one driving, because the closer and closer they got to the school, the worse his hands would shake. 

All too soon they were pulling into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School, which was announced on a wide plaque by the front of the school. Stiles’ heart kicked up in his chest as he stared at the headrest in front of him, focusing on a crease in the black leather while panic mounted in his chest. He did his best to breathe deeply and push through the way his chest clenched tighter and tighter and  _ tighter— _

“Stiles?” Cora asked softly, her hand settling comfortingly on his thigh. 

He jumped, startled, and realized that he’d been tearing up the tinfoil from his burrito until it was a mess of little pieces. “Shit,” he said softly, and made a quiet noise of thanks when Cora held out a tissue under his hands so he could drop the foil into it. “Thank you.”

Stiles took a deep breath that did nothing against the burning in his lungs. It felt like he was breathing through a straw, like he couldn’t get a full breath no matter what he tried, and he kept breathing faster, faster,  _ faster, _ he just needed to breathe faster, he would be fine if he could just breathe faster, he just needed to _ breathe— _

“Stiles.” The force of Aiden’s Alpha voice cut through the fog of panic that was clouding  _ everything else,  _ and Stiles slumped back against the cool leather seat like his strings had been cut as he came back to himself. 

“Sorry,” he rasped, his voice scratchy as the words pulled out of his throat. 

He finally managed to take a deep breath, and he held it for ten seconds before he let it out slowly. He reached out for Cora and she grabbed his hand immediately, wrapping her fingers around Stiles’ palm and squeezing tightly. Stiles thunked his head against the seat and let out a choked laugh, doing his best to fight away burning tears by focusing on the warm pulse of worry he could feel coming from Deucalion. 

“Fuck,” he swore softly, once again slamming his head back against the seat. Stiles wished it felt just a  _ fraction _ more satisfying. 

“Are you good, dude?” Aiden asked, and when Stiles dropped his gaze from the ceiling to the Alpha, his eyes were still shining red. 

“Y-yeah,” Stiles whispered, swallowing heavily. “Sorry. Panic attack.”

“It’s okay, Sti,” Ethan told him softly, reaching around his seat and squeezing Stiles’ knee. “I used to get them. That’s why Aiden Alpha-voiced you. It’s one of the only things that would pull me out of an attack.”

“I’m surprised it did anything,” Aiden muttered. “You’re way more powerful than I am.”

Stiles sent him a smile that probably looked shakier than he wanted. “You didn’t Alpha me, but you still shocked me enough that it pulled me outta it. So... yeah. Thank you.”

Aiden shrugged. Stiles focused on sending his thanks along their bond, which got him a genuine smile that was easier to return. He kept working on his breathing until there was no burn left in his lungs and he was able to expand his chest with each breath he took. It took longer for his fingers to stop shaking. 

The other three were silent around him, which didn’t really  _ help, _ but Stiles wasn’t sure what he wanted them to say, anyway. It was nice that they were just... sitting there. They weren’t speaking, but they  _ were _ sending warmth along their bonds in a way that filled Stiles’ chest with their presence. Stiles looked out the window, glad that Ennis’ jeep had blacked out windows and that no one would be able to see them. 

He was even  _ more _ glad for it when he realized there were a few students hanging around the car. None of them were getting  _ too _ close, but it was clear they were looking at the jeep. It seemed like Aiden had parked near the back of the lot, which was... a little dramatic, seeing as it meant they were going to have to walk through the  _ entire _ parking lot just to get to the front of the building. 

Oh god, Aiden had been serious. 

He did his best to ignore everyone else, and closed his eyes so he could properly centre himself. He could tell his pack was worried about him, which was...  _ God, _ it felt incredible to know that he had people who cared about him. Eventually, the silence stretched on until Stiles couldn’t stand it, and he let out a dramatic groan. 

Ethan made a sympathetic noise, their bond flaring bright. “Is... Is it your old pack?”

Stiles looked at the other teen and saw nothing but concern on his face. It felt unbelievable to him that these three cared about him  _ so _ much, but he knew he felt the same for them. Stiles would do  _ anything _ for his pack. The bonds between them were already  _ so _ strong, unlike anything that Stiles had ever felt before, and... he wondered if it was because they all cared about each so much. 

Was the bond so strong because they wanted it to be? Because they all wanted to care for one another? 

Which they... they did, right? 

“Yeah,” Stiles finally admitted with a sigh, slumping back into his seat. “Is it... is it bad that I don’t want to go in? That I don’t want to see them?” Stiles asked in a show of vulnerability that he would never have let his old pack see. 

He’d only known these wolves for a few weeks, but they’d felt like family from the beginning and they’d only grown closer since. There wasn’t a single ounce of judgment along any of their bonds, and Stiles would admit to himself that he specifically pulled the three bonds close to the surface of his chest to make sure. 

Once burned... 

“Dude, of course you don’t wanna go in. School sucks,” Aiden told him with a chuckle, grunting when Ethan punched his arm. 

“It’s not bad at all,” Ethan assured, squeezing Stiles’ knee tightly before he shifted around onto his knees to face Stiles more fully. “I think it makes sense. Your old pack... they freaking sucked. The things you’ve told us about them, how they treated you and Peter? That was fucked, Sti.”

Stiles barked out a laugh and nodded his head. “Yeah, they really were awful.”

“Ya know... we can take them, right?” Aiden said with a surprising amount of warmth in his voice. “If they try literally anything, we can take them out in seconds.”

“I’m not worried about them hurting me like that,” Stiles admitted quietly, but he still forced a smile for the offer. “I’m... I was f-friends with Scott for so long, ya know? Ever since we were kids, we were each other's best friends. We didn’t need anyone else. There’s  _ so _ much history there. And like, one of them, Jackson? He b-bullied me for... fuck, I can’t even tell you how long, just because I asked out the girl he liked way back in grade school.”

“Why the fuck did you ever hang around them in the first place?” 

Stiles barked out another laugh, but there was no humour in it. 

“I... don’t know? When Scott got bit, everything went to shit. We were all being terrorized by a feral alpha, Kate murder-rapist Argent was haunting the town, and I was mostly trying to survive and keep my dad alive without him knowing anything. Somehow when all of that was going on, Scott started dating Allison—who was somehow way cooler than us from the beginning?—and Scott got good at lacrosse, ‘cause of the whole werewolf thing, so he started talking to the cooler guys on the team. Next thing  _ I _ knew, Scott was sitting with the kids who’d bullied us and I... was just doing my best?”

Silence, heavy and uncomfortable, stretched for a few seconds. Stiles could see the disgust on his pack’s faces, and while it brought him a measure of comfort to know they didn’t agree with how he’d been treated, he  _ really _ just wanted to move on. 

“I’m really glad they aren’t your pack anymore,” Cora said quietly, squeezing Stiles’ hand. “I’m really,  _ really _ glad that we are.”

Stiles managed a real, if small, smile. “I’m really glad you’re all my pack too. I...” he trailed off, not sure how to put into words what he wanted to say. He took a deep breath, and thankfully they didn’t rush him. “I can’t believe you all just took us in?”

“Stiles, do you have any idea how powerful you are?” Aiden asked him bluntly, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh... somewhat?”

“Listen, we’re animals. I know that’s easy to forget, with the human faces and the perfect control.” Aiden’s eyes flashed red, and they glowed until he stopped speaking. “But underneath it all, we’re  _ wolves. _ You came up to our Alpha, showed off your strength, and bared your throat. There isn’t a  _ world _ where you wouldn’t have been accepted. And Peter? Dude, he’s like a legendary left hand. No one fucked with the Hale pack for a reason, and it sure as shit wasn’t their Alpha.”

“But...” Stiles trailed off, unsure how to phrase exactly what he wanted to ask but trying his best. “Do you really only feel that way because of the wolf?”

“No. That is what we  _ want _ our pack to be,” Ethan told him firmly, picking up Stiles' thought with a sweet smile. “Pack doesn’t  _ have _ to like each other. Hell, a lot of the time they really, really don’t. But that’s not us. We’re all a bunch of horror stories thrown together by chance and we want a pack that feels like  _ family.  _ The wolf can tell you want that too.”

“So is that why you’ve all taken me in?”

“Well I also really like you,” Ethan told him with a wink. “And I know my brother does too, he’s just bad with feelings.”

The last part was said in a mock-whisper, one hand coming up to shield his mouth from Aiden who punched him in the shoulder. 

“He might be an animal,” Cora cut in seriously, wrapping her other hand around their still-joined fingers, “but I love you for how you’ve taken care of Peter. Even before you left the Hale pack, he told me how you still spoke with him regularly. He told me about the information you gathered to keep the pack, and him, safe, and how readily you accepted him into your life after they kicked you away. Even if they didn’t kick  _ him _ out, you were his only pack.

“We’re pack, yeah. But you’re also my family and... that’s not something I’ve got much of anymore.”

“Cora Hale if you make me cry before class I am going to be so angry with you,” Stiles choked out, his voice wavering before he tugged Cora into a tight hug. He breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo and held her close, absolutely awed that he managed to find such an amazing group of people by sheer luck. 

Er, well.  _ Mostly _ luck. 

“Aw,  _ I _ want a hug,” Ethan whined, so Stiles pulled back with one last squeeze around Cora’s shoulders to dart forward and press a kiss to Ethan’s cheek. 

“I cannot move like that,” Stiles told him apologetically, gesturing to the console between them and he returned the beaming smile Ethan was sending him with ease. He took a look at each one of them and breathed in deeply, letting himself marvel, for just a second, at what his life had become. “Thank you all. I... you’re right. It doesn’t matter if I see them, ‘cause they treated me like shit and I am doing  _ much _ better now.”

“Hell yeah!” Aiden cheered, which startled a laugh out of Stiles. “Now... are we ready to make our fucking badass entrance and show this entire High School what eliteness looks like?”

“Do you think of anything you say before you say it?” Ethan asked, giving his brother a long-suffering look. 

“Baby, you know I don’t,” Aiden told him with a wink, and Stiles did  _ not _ miss the flush that covered Ethan’s cheeks.

“Boys,” Cora said, grinning at them widely despite her firm tone. “We’re supposed to be focusing on Stiles.”

“No! Stiles is good,” he told them, “you’ve all focused on Stiles enough, I promise!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Aiden asked, a wide grin on his face. “Alpha Teens, are we ready?”

“Alpha what?” Ethan asked with a laugh. 

Aiden gave his brother a dirty look, then looked back to the backseat with a wide grin. “Ya know! Alpha Teens? Like the teens of the Alpha pack!”

“It is such a good thing you’re pretty,” Cora muttered, but she still leaned forward to give Aiden a long kiss. He met Ethan’s eye, and the two of them burst out laughing when they turned to each other with the  _ exact _ same disgusted face. 

Stiles sucked in a deep breath and focused on the warmth in his chest. They were right.  _ He _ was right. It didn’t matter what the pack thought because he had a  _ better _ pack. Not only were they stronger, but... they cared about him in a way that Stiles had  _ never _ felt from anyone but his parents. It was absolutely mind-blowing to think that all these people would care about him so much, but—they really did? 

Stiles looked around the jeep with a smile, and when he took in another breath he squared his shoulders and sat up tall. “You know what? Fuck yeah! Alpha Teens, let’s fucking  _ do this!” _

Aiden cheered loudly as he reached forward and grabbed an all-black backpack, and he made quick work of getting out of the jeep. Barely even a second later he was opening Cora’s door, to which she greeted him with a roll of her eyes. 

“My lady,” Aiden said with a mock-bow, and Stiles shared another look with Ethan before they both stepped out of the car. 

Ethan stepped up into his space and placed a hand on his hip in a way that made Stiles  _ very _ glad that the rest of the teenagers had given them some space once the doors opened. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, but Ethan just smiled and met his eyes. “I know we were joking around at the end, but are you really okay?”

Stiles closed his eyes for a second and wrapped his magic around their bond before sending a pulse of power down it. Stiles blinked his eyes open in time to watch Ethan’s flash red, before they quickly dulled back to their usual warm brown. Stiles sent another pulse, and this time only a small ring of red lit up. “I might do that a few times, just to remind myself you’re all real, so... be ready? But otherwise, I’m really okay. I don’t even know how to thank you three...”

“You don’t need to thank us, Sti,” Ethan told him firmly, squeezing his side. “We’re pack. This is what we’re supposed to do for each other.” 

Stiles nodded, and then he leaned down to rest their foreheads together. God, how did he get so lucky?

“You can hear the whispering too, right?” he asked quietly, and something like dread pooled in his stomach when Ethan laughed and nodded. “Shit.”

“Losers!” Aiden called, and when Stiles pulled back he saw that his arm was around Cora’s shoulder and both of their bags were on his free arm. “C’mon.”

Stiles shook his head at the tone in Aiden’s voice and gave Ethan one last smile before he stepped away. 

“You don’t have to call us names,” Stiles told him, raising an eyebrow at the chagrined face Aiden gave him. “Oh my gosh, I’m kidding!”

“Hey, it’s tough to tell sometimes!” Aiden defended himself, bumping his elbow into Stiles’ side. “‘Sides, you’re all-powerful and shit, and you’re basically mated to my Alpha. If you told me to do something, I'd definitely like,  _ have _ to do it.”

“Wait really?” Stiles asked, falling into step beside Aiden and smiling at Ethan when he flanked his other side. 

“I mean, yeah?” Aiden tilted his head to the side as they crossed the lot. Stiles focused on the other boy’s face and  _ not _ the way they were being stared at by a parking lot full of teenagers. “You definitely outrank everyone but Deuc and... dude, you’re a spark. You could be more powerful than even him, and as his mate, he’d pretty much do anything you ever asked just to make you happy.”

“That’s... a lot of power,” Stiles muttered as they walked up the front steps. Anxiety, hot and heavy, swirled in his gut

“Don’t think of it like that,” Ethan told him firmly. “It isn’t power the way you’re thinking. We listen to you out of respect. And Deucalion cares about you so much that of course he’d want to do things to make you happy, but... it isn’t like any of us would absolutely  _ have _ to listen to you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Cora pipped in, leaning around Aiden. “Even Peter and I could go against you, or Deucalion if we tried. It wouldn’t be fun and it sure as hell wouldn’t feel good, but we aren’t slaves to our Alpha. It really isn’t as serious as you think it is.”

Stiles let out a soft breath of relief as Ethan opened the front door for him to walk through. He did his best to breathe deeply as he fought down the panic wanting to mount, focusing instead on the way his pack was with him. Ethan and Aiden flanked him once again, both in all black which was... dramatic. 

“Hey, uh, am I a little underdressed?” Stiles asked suddenly, trying to come up with  _ anything _ to keep himself from thinking about the pack. “You’re all in leather jackets.”

“You have matching shoulders pads!” Ethan announced happily, and Stiles startled out a laugh as he realized that yes, Deucalion’s cardigan  _ did _ have leather patches on the shoulder. 

“Ennis already has your measurements submitted to our tailor,” Cora said, like that was a perfectly reasonable thing to say out loud. 

Especially considered that no one had ever measured him. 

“Wait... your leather jackets are tailor-made?” Stiles asked incredulously, turning down a hallway and marvelling a little at the way they stayed perfectly in sync with him. 

“Duh,” Ethan said, bumping their shoulders together. “But really, it’s just something that Ennis is into?”

“Not like  _ into _ into _ , _ ‘cause gross,” Aiden added. “I’m pretty sure he just thinks they look badass.”

“And they do,” Cora added with a grin, and Stiles let himself laugh. 

Which made him realize just how long it had been since the last time he laughed at school and... wow. That was a depressing thought he was  _ not  _ going to linger on. 

He knew the three of them were trying to distract him, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel too upset about it. If anything, he was really thankful for all their help. Knowing that he had people who cared about him enough to joke around about leather jackets as they walked through the halls—Stiles was trying  _ really _ hard not to notice how people were parting like the red freaking sea—just to make him feel better, was... really, really amazing. 

He sent a pulse of warmth at all three of them as they got to his locker. Scott’s locker had always been close to his, though this year they were across the hall from one another. For the first time since the school year started, Stiles was unbelievably glad for the space. 

They... were all there. 

Well, Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Isaac were there. Stiles did his best not to look, but he snuck a few glances as he spun his lock open with muscle memory. He knew that the four of them were watching him and his pack, but he pushed the awareness of them from his mind and firmly told himself it didn’t matter. 

He was glad he didn’t have super hearing, since he was  _ sure _ they would be talking about him.

_ His _ pack were talking, too, so Stiles started focusing on what they were saying about Ennis and Kali only to find out that Stiles  _ should not be listening _ because  _ oh my God. _ Stiles tucked his fingers into the sleeves of Deucalion’s cardigan as he, briefly, caught Scott’s eye. The beta was frowning at him, something Stiles could see from across the hall. Panic began to well up, but before he could even get close to falling into another panic attack, Ethan’s hand was sliding down his arm and squeezing his wrist before letting go. 

Shooting the Alpha a smile, Stiles studiously ignored the others, putting what he didn’t need into his locker and taking out what he did. He knew that he was going to be  _ really _ behind, seeing as he just missed two weeks of school, but he figured the homework would be a welcome distraction. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d ever had  _ too _ much trouble catching up before, right? 

Stiles took a deep breath and centred himself before he looked back over. His spark flared brightly in his chest as his pack kept talking about something mundane enough that Stiles could still pretend to listen, even though he was sure they all knew he wasn’t. 

Stiles tuned into the conversation to hear Aiden saying, “Kali is  _ not _ the type to submit to anyone,” which... ew. Stiles scrunched up his nose and decidedly  _ stopped _ listening. 

But not listening meant that his mind wandered, and then so did his eyes. 

Scott looked angry. Stiles didn’t dwell on it, because it wasn’t an anger he needed to care about anymore. More worryingly was Allison, who looked a shade of murderous Stiles was  _ not _ comfortable seeing on her, and Isaac, who looked so tired Stiles could sense the young wolf’s exhaustion from his locker. Lydia looked as perfectly put together as always, but... there was something there, something that caught his spark and made him feel cold to his bones. 

He pushed his magic forward to see if he could figure out just why she felt so odd. Stiles’ face scrunched up as his spark was met with an even colder, chilling sense of... dread? Doubling down, Stiles pushed harder, letting his spark expand under his skin as he pushed his magic to slither across the hallway. 

Suddenly, all Stiles could see were  _ graves _ laid down the hallway, and his spark felt like it was being drained out of his skin. 

Before he could even take a breath he was being sucked into the freezing cold that was wrapped around Lydia like a  _ disease— _

“Hey, you okay?” Cora asked, once a shiver had wracked down his spine. 

He blinked back to the present and pulled his spark back into himself, a frown falling across his face as he realized he must have spaced out for a minute. All of them were looking at him worriedly, so he did his best to dredge up a smile even if he still kinda felt like he was standing in a cemetery. 

“Y-Yeah,” Stiles said, taking a deep breath and grounding himself with his bonds. What the hell was that? His next smile came to his face easily once he was able to warm himself with the feel of his pack. “Yeah, I’m really good.”

Stiles made sure he had everything he needed, and then he closed his locker. The metal clang sounded final. 

“C’mon, I’ll show you three to the office to get set up,” Stiles told them quietly. 

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, focusing on the people in front of him and how clearly Stiles could feel that they cared about him through the bonds shining inside his chest. With the binders he needed stacked in his arms, Stiles turned his back on the group of people that he once considered his pack, but who had never really considered him anything at all, and with his  _ real _ pack, the people he belonged with, at his side, he walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so overjoyed to be writing in this universe. For anyone who read _[With You, I Belong](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302614/)_ , I can't promise any better of a posting schedule, but writing this fic is one of my 2021 goals... I'd say we're off to a pretty good start! 
> 
> I have so many big plans for this fic, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't love to hear what you think! Tell me what you want to happen, what you're hoping for, what you want to see... and that just might get a faster update out of me ;)  
>  _(no but seriously, comments are incredibly encouraging and inspiring!)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh... apparently this thing is gonna be long.

The cafeteria fell into a collective hush as the four of them walked through the wide double doors. Stiles stalled in the doorway, swaying back into Ethan’s chest before he pushed himself forward with a roll of his eyes. Sure, he knew that showing up after two weeks off with three new students shadowing him might stir up talk (even if no one really seemed to like him), but... really? No one was even  _ trying _ to be subtle! 

Stiles made a beeline for the back of the room, plopping his bag down at the table he and Scott used to sit at before Scott started dragging Stiles over to the “popular” table, courtesy of Allison. He kept his eyes to himself, focusing on the warm feel of his pack in his chest as he crossed the room. He,  _ they, _ were all fine. If Stiles could tame the Demon Wolf and  _ permanently  _ neutralize the threat that was Gerard Argent, he could handle high school. 

Right? 

_ Ugh!  _ Why wasn’t this easier? 

Thankfully, his pack was following closely behind him, and he knew, if nothing else, that he wouldn’t be doing anything alone. Even still, he had to keep himself from reaching back and taking Ethan’s hand. Stiles was absolutely certain that their display from that morning would get around the school  _ fast, _ which had only been confirmed by a number of text messages on his phone from Cora, who apparently  _ loved  _ listening to the different theories their peers were coming up with. 

Stiles’ favourite? That he’d gotten tired of being second-place to Scott and had hired a new group of badass friends to make himself look cooler. 

“Did you hear I’m your pimp?” Stiles asked his packmates, as he climbed onto the bench and faced Aiden and Cora with a wide grin. He turned to Ethan and waggled his eyebrows. “You’re my sugar baby.”

Ethan tossed his head back with a laugh, joy erupting along their bond. “Oh my God  _ as if! _ If anything  _ you’re _ the sugar baby!” 

“You know what,” Stiles started, thinking about the way Deucalion had slipped a credit card into Stiles’ wallet after that first shopping trip, “you’ve got me there.”

“And if anyone is the pimp—“ Aiden started, only to slump back into his seat with a grimace when Cora elbowed him in the gut. 

“—It’s me!” she finished, grinning triumphantly at her boyfriend before tugging him into a kiss. 

He and Ethan shared another look and another laugh, but then Stiles got thoroughly distracted by Aiden pulling a lunch box out of his black backpack. 

“What is that?” Stiles asked in a rush, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Is that food?  _ Please _ tell me that’s food! I’m literally so hungry I could  _ die.” _

“You couldn’t die,” Ethan said quietly beside him, and with a wink, added, “as our Emissary, you’d siphon off our life force and burn through the whole pack until it was just you and Deucalion left. Then you might die.”

Stiles’ hand stilled halfway across the table, hanging in mid-air as he mouthed wordlessly, trying to think of  _ something _ to say. Aiden and Cora were looking at him seriously and, from a quick check along their bond, none of them were kidding. 

“O-Okay,” Stiles muttered, shaking his head and trying to get that to make sense. “Uh. Okay. You all realize I don’t know any of this shit, right?” 

He didn’t like saying it, but it was the truth. Stiles was trying. He was trying  _ so hard, _ but between bonding with the pack and going after Gerard, Stiles hadn’t had a lot of time for studying recently. At least, it hadn’t felt like he’d had a lot of time for studying, with everything that was happening around him. He had books that he  _ needed  _ to read, but it never felt like he had any time to read them. Every time he sat down to get stuff done, it was like a billion other things popped up that he needed to do, and then he never got around to doing anything. 

God, he  _ really _ needed to start studying. 

“That’s okay,” Ethan told him kindly, knocking their shoulders together. “It’s a lot. A lot of this stuff was taught to us by Deuc when he first brought us into the pack.”

“You’ll catch up.” Aiden sent him a wink, and then  _ dramatically _ slammed the lunch bag onto the table. “And yes, Stiles, this is lunch. Courtesy of Ennis, made for us with ‘love’.”

“Ennis packed us  _ lunch?” _ Stiles asked with a gasp, lunging across the table to grab the insulted bag with both hands and a noise of excitement. “Score!”

It was easy to focus on the sound of his pack’s laughter and push away the anxious gnawing that’d started up in his chest. He wasn’t going to keep making excuses. As Stiles pulled out an adorably packed charcuterie board in tupperware containers he  _ definitely _ hadn’t owned before adopting the Alpha pack, he vowed that he was going to be the Emissary his pack deserved. 

They’d all been so amazing to him. Ethan and Cora had taken him out and overhauled his whole wardrobe in a way that, having now survived a few hours at school, actually made him feel a lot better about himself. Aiden was an asshole, but he was the same breed of asshole that Stiles was, which rocked. Ennis cooked for them all the time, joked around with his dad, and really seemed to get along with Peter. Then there was Peter, who was basically his second dad, and Deucalion, who was... god, Deucalion was everything. 

Kali was... well, Stiles was actually just pretty sure that Kali hated him, even if he wasn’t totally sure why. 

Stiles needed to be for them what they’d all been for him, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t know  _ how. _

But, now wasn’t the time to worry about that. 

No, now was time to be  _ with _ his pack, and that was something he could do easily. 

“Does this actually count as cooking?” Stiles asked as he popped an olive into his mouth with a piece of salami. Chew, swallow, then, “That is  _ not _ a complaint, but does it?”

“He’s preparing food.” Cora pointed at him with a cracker and a grin. “I’d say that counts.”

“I got a sandwich,” Aiden piped in, taking a large bite out of what appeared to be leftover roast beef between french loaf. 

Oh,  _ yum. _

“Wait, why didn’t  _ I _ get a sandwich?”

“Did you tell him what you wanted?” Aiden asked, around a mouthful of food.

“What I wanted?”

“Yeah? Last night, when he was making lunches and asked what we wanted.”

Stiles blushed to his  _ ears _ remembering what he was doing last night, ducking his head as his chest filled with still-unfamiliar warmth that felt a little too much like love for Stiles to know what to do with. 

He felt through the tangle of bonds in his chest to find the one that connected him with Deucalion. It was singing brighter between them than  _ ever,  _ and Stiles knew why that was. Last night, after dinner, they’d retreated up to Stiles’ bedroom, Deucalion leading the way. Stiles had been  _ so _ nervous all day, barely able to concentrate on anything that had been going on around him. 

Deucalion had brought him upstairs to talk, but the second Deucalion was sitting on his bed, Stiles was curled up in his lap. He’d hidden himself away in the Alpha’s chest, letting himself feel small and protected and knowing, without a single hint of hesitation, that Deucalion would keep him safe. 

After a few minutes of that, Deucalion had asked, quietly, if he could see Stiles’ face again. 

He’d been able to feel the nervous fluttering of Deucalion’s heart against the fingers he had tucked into his collar. Stiles had nodded, hesitantly, and sat up when Deucalion asked. Then, with shaking fingers, Deucalion had mapped out his face in one of the most intimate experiences of Stiles’ life, something even more intimate than the make-out session they’d shared that morning, beaten only by the first time Deucalion had asked for this. 

Now, he could feel the phantom touch of Deucalion’s fingers ghosting across his face. The warm weight of his palm against Stiles’ cheek. He could feel the weight of Deucalion’s thumb against his lips,  _ Deucalion’s  _ lips against his lips, the scratch of his stubble against Stiles’ chin and the warmth of his hip under Stiles’ fingers. He could remember the way that Deucalion’s breath had gone stilted and laboured, the way the very tops of his cheeks had blushed, as Stiles stared down at him from his perch, settled across his lap—

“Oh my god  _ ew,” _ Aiden groaned, and a cracker hit Stiles’ head. “Stop thinking about my Alpha that way.”

Stiles startled back to the present, swaying forward in his seat before steadying himself. He looked up to find the other three staring at him, and immediately felt his face  _ burn _ in a way that meant it would be bright red. 

_ Oh my god. _

“I think it’s sweet,” Ethan,  _ his favourite twin, _ said with a grin. Stiles sent him a smile, face still burning. “Deuc used to be so grumpy!”

“He’s still grumpy,” Cora added, but she had a smile on her face that let Stiles know she was teasing.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbled, dropping his head and waiting for one of them to harp on him for zoning out during the middle of a conversation, already prepared to crack a joke about his ADHD when—

No one said anything. Ethan flicked a cracker at Aiden, who retaliated by throwing a slice of cheese right into his mouth. Cora teased them both for being idiots, and Stiles... dropped his eyes to his lap, smiling at his fingers. 

“The others aren’t here,” Ethan said against his ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down Stiles’ spine at the unexpected closeness. It still felt... weird, a little, how tactile his pack was. He and his dad had always been really affectionate, but until Peter, Stiles hadn’t been that way with anyone else, not even really with Scott. 

It was nice,  _ really _ nice, and Stiles tilted his head to rest against Ethan’s shoulder when the young alpha didn’t immediately pull back. 

It was even nicer that the pack wasn’t there. Stiles wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he was  _ not _ going to wonder what they were doing. They weren’t his problem anymore, and that meant he didn’t have to worry when they didn’t come to lunch—he got to be happy and relieved about it instead. 

He knew that they would have to talk eventually. That Derek would probably want to know what was going on, and Stiles really wanted to check in with Erica and Boyd and make sure that they were still okay, but... not today.  _ Definitely _ not today. 

Pushing his thoughts away from the pack, Stiles grabbed a handful of almonds to munch on, and decided to ask just why Ennis was cooking for them so much. 

“So—“ 

Stiles didn’t get a chance to even  _ start _ speaking before Danny Māhealani was coming up to their table with a big, disarming grin and a brown paper bag in hand. Stiles didn’t even get a chance to move before he plopped his lunch down on the table, crossed his arms over his chest, and asked, “Is this your boyfriend?”

Stiles snorted, hard, biting into his bottom lip to keep down a laugh as he pulled back to take a long look at Ethan. The other boy was attractive, sure, in a... boyish way. He had seriously pretty eyes, but Stiles was rather partial to Deucalion’s milky gaze and the way his irises looked like full moons. And yeah, Ethan had a sharp jaw, but it wasn’t dusted in a perpetual stubble like Deucalion’s was. His shoulders were wide, but not wide  _ enough,  _ and... yeah, Stiles was just really attracted to Deucalion. 

“Hey!” Ethan whined, bumping their shoulders together. “I’d be a great boyfriend!” 

“Yes, Ethan, I am sure that you would make a  _ very _ good boyfriend,” Stiles told him seriously, patting his shoulder with a kind smile.

“Why did that sound so sarcastic?”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic,” Stiles protested with a pout. 

“Oh please, you were  _ totally _ being sarcastic!” Ethan accused, which, rude! 

“No I was not! I do think you’d be a good boyfriend!” Stiles told him emphatically, even waving his arm around to encompass just what a good boyfriend he was sure he would be. “But... dude, you’re like a brother. I have  _ brotherly _ love for you. Gross!”

“Gross?” Ethan asked, scrunching up his nose playfully. 

His eyes darted to Aiden. 

Stiles barrelled on, ignoring what was only a suspicion to protest. “Oh my god! Stop letting me talk! It’s not my fault I already have one!”

“You have a boyfriend?” Danny asked, loudly, reminding Stiles that he was  _ still _ standing there and, apparently, looking at them amusedly. 

Stiles swayed back as he took Danny in. The other boy looked... he looked tired, actually. They hadn’t ever been close, but Stiles had been in classes with Danny his entire  _ life, _ and he knew what it looked like when the other boy was worn down. Danny looked  _ really _ worn down, now that Stiles had actually looked. 

He opened his mouth to say something, to ask if he was okay, but... they didn’t know each other like that, and they’d never been that type of friends. 

So instead Stiles threw on a grin, and answered, “Uh... yes?”

“Yes? Are you asking me?” Danny said teasingly, a wry smile on his face. 

“Well, I mean. No. Yes. Yes! Yes, I do have a boyfriend.” Stiles nodded his head firmly, sending a pulse of warmth towards Deucalion and getting a pulse back in a way that reassured him. Sure, they may not have  _ spoken _ about it, not exactly, but they were totally both on the same page about what they were to each other!

Right? 

“More like a sugar daddy,” Aiden mumbled with a smirk, definitely loud enough for everyone to hear him.

Stiles  _ squawked  _ and turned to Aiden with outrage. “Absolutely not! No! Bad teenager!”

Aiden threw his head back with a laugh as Cora berated him—she was his only true friend—and Stiles stuck out his tongue when Aiden started pouting at his girlfriend. 

“Hey, do you wanna sit with us?” Stiles heard Ethan ask, and because he was still looking at Aiden, he saw the other boy’s face go tense as Danny sat down beside his brother. 

_ Juicy.  _

“Aiden, please, for the love of god, never say that again in your whole life,” Stiles told him seriously, a full-body shudder running down his spine. Sure, Deucalion was older. And he had... a lot of money. But! That did  _ not _ mean that Deucalion was his  _ sugar daddy! _

“He is rich, you know,” Aiden said casually, like he  _ wasn’t _ exposing  _ way too much. _

“Who is this mysterious ‘he’?” Danny asked, leaning forward and looking at Stiles around Ethan with an even wider smile than the one on Aiden’s face. 

_ Boys! _

“‘He’ is no one!” Stiles snapped, sending a harsh look Aiden’s way. Then he turned back to Danny and, at the boy’s pout, allowed, “Fine. He’s a family friend.”

“Well that sounds juicy and scandalous,” Danny said jokingly. He looked between all four of them, and asked, “Are these family friends too?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow and threw on a smirk of his own. “It just so happens they are.”

“How bizarre,” Danny muttered under his breath as he raised his eyebrow.

“How bizarre,” Stiles echoed, but smiled genuinely. “This is Aiden and Ethan, the twins, and Cora, my... cousin-in-law, actually!”

Cora sent him a grin and a roll of her eyes, and added,  _ “Future _ cousin-in-law. Nothing is official yet.”

Stiles snorted, but didn’t make any jokes about Peter or his dad. It wasn’t any fun if neither men were there to get all huffy! Instead, he introduced Danny in turn, and they all shared a round of hellos before the entire atmosphere shifted and he went serious. 

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” Danny asked quietly, looking directly at Stiles which meant that he definitely saw it when Stiles flinched back.

Whoa, that was a trauma response Stiles hadn’t known about. Fuck, calm down much?

“N-No,” he mumbled under his breath, clearing his throat and saying, louder, “I’d rather not. Do you mind staying here?”

Danny looked at Stiles with heavy eyes and went stock-still. Then, he nodded his head. “I want to know where Jackson is.”

Stiles reared back, wracking his brain for something that made sense. Stiles had seen Jackson just... shit, actually, now that Stiles was thinking about it— “I don’t know? I haven’t seen him since September.”

Danny’s expression shifted, minutely, but Stiles had known him long enough to know he was displeased. “Really?”

“Seriously, Danny-boy,” Stiles said, trying to lighten the mood. And failing. 

Danny’s lips twisted down, but he didn’t say anything at first. After a moment that stretched on  _ really _ awkwardly, Danny cleared his throat. “He told me his parents were thinking about moving to London at the start of that month. October started and... suddenly he was gone. I still haven’t heard from him.”

Shit, what the hell?

“I’m sorry, I know that you two were close,” Stiles said with as much feeling as he could muster. Sure, Jackson was a total dick rod, but Danny hadn’t ever been nasty to him. Hell, Danny hadn’t ever been nasty to  _ anyone! _

“Listen, I’m not an idiot, okay? I know that you know something,” Danny said seriously, eyeing the other three at the table before looking back at Stiles with narrowed eyes. “Why did he leave?”

Stiles shrugged helplessly, unable to stop himself from remembering the last time he’d seen Jackson. “He’s never been my biggest fan,” Stiles said quietly, sending thanks along his bonds with the twins when Ethan grabbed his knee and Aiden knocked their feet together. He focused on reining in his feelings, hopeful the rest of the pack hadn’t picked them up. 

“Your friends, then,” Danny said, a little wide-eyed. “Lydia refuses to say  _ anything _ and that means she knows something. Allison acts dumb whenever I go to her, and McCall  _ isn’t _ acting _. _ Listen, I know that you were all involved in something—”

“They aren’t really my friends anymore. Danny—”

“I don’t know  _ what,” _ Danny said, something fierce in his eyes. “I could find out, but I won’t. I want someone to tell me.”

Stiles shrugged, feeling absolutely helpless. He’d never seen Danny like this. The boy was normally cool and calm, and other than a few occasions where he was especially happy after a well-won lacrosse game, he really hadn’t seen much emotion from Danny  _ at all. _ Like, ever. 

“I swear I would tell you if I knew,” Stiles said honestly. 

“Listen, Stiles, I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Danny admitted, in a show of vulnerability Stiles had  _ never _ expected from him. He reached around Ethan and his hand, and Stiles had to bite into his bottom lip to keep from gasping when his spark  _ flared.  _

His magic  _ surged _ under his skin, and it took every bit of self-control that Stiles possessed to push it down.

“I-I really don’t know,” Stiles said, trying to show Danny just how serious he was. He focused on the other boy and nothing else, blocking out the way his heart was racing and the way his spark was all but jumping out under his skin. He knew how Danny felt, and he focused on that instead of his magic. “Danny, this is the first I’m hearing of this. As far as I knew, Jackson was literally lurking around waiting to give me a wedgie or throw me into a locker.”

Aiden growled. Stiles and Danny  _ both _ looked over at him, and the minute he realized their eyes were on him, he launched into a  _ very _ unconvincing cough. Cora literally rolled her eyes as Ethan snickered. 

Jesus, it was a wonder the entire town didn’t know about the supernatural! 

“Danny, I’m really sorry,” Stiles told him again, reaching out and grabbing his hand again in a bid of comfort. The shock of  _ magic _ he felt strumming under the other boy’s skin wasn’t a shock, this time, but he still struggled to keep down his surprise. “Do you want me to—”

“You’re not even going to suggest what I think you’re about to suggest,” Cora cut in loudly, giving Stiles a glare that made him shrink back into his seat. Damn, those were definitely Hale eyebrows. “Danny?” Cora started, much kinder. “I’m sorry about your friend. Stiles is telling the truth—not only has he been sitting around at home for the last two weeks, but I can promise you he doesn’t know anything.”

“I don’t know you,” Danny pointed out with a raised eyebrow. 

“Then why would I lie?” Cora asked, raising an eyebrow of her own. “To protect Stiles, maybe, but why would  _ he _ lie?”

“I... don’t know.” Danny slumped forward, his head dropping between his shoulders. Stiles’ heart went out to him, especially with the way he could still recall just how  _ hollow _ he’d felt after his pack had abandoned him. 

Danny and Jackson had been friends since  _ Kindergarten. _ They’d been a constant, during Stiles’ entire life, and from what Danny had said, it didn’t even sound like Jackson had said goodbye. 

Jeez, what the hell?

The bell rang, cutting them off. Danny ducked his head, and in another show of surprising vulnerability, let out a shaking breath. 

“Hey,” Stiles called, forcing a smile across his face. “If you wanna start sitting with us, this cool-kid table is always taking new members.”

Danny tossed his head back with a laugh, which was  _ exactly _ what Stiles had been going for. He grinned up at the taller boy, and bid him farewell as they all started moving towards their next classes. The fact that Jackson was  _ gone, _ had moved to  _ London,  _ and Stiles didn’t know, was... well it was concerning from a pack-protection standpoint, but... it also kinda stung. 

He knew that he was done with his old pack. He knew that he had  _ been _ done with his old pack. But apparently that didn’t stop them from hurting him. Stiles took a deep breath and shot Ethan a thankful smile when the Alpha squeezed his wrist, and tried to push away thoughts he didn’t need. Thinking of his old pack wouldn’t get him anywhere, and as they walked out of the cafeteria, side by side, their bonds singing with warm comfort, Stiles was able to leave those thoughts behind. 

Mostly. 

But... there  _ was _ one thing Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about. 

What the hell was Danny, and how many fucking residents of Beacon Hills were supernatural?

* * *

Stiles let out a heavy breath when the familiar brush of his wards washed over him. He focused on the feeling of his own magic and the way it twined together with an energy that felt distinctly  _ Alpha _ in tone, and breathed out a shuddering breath as he toed off his shoes. He smiled slightly as his packmates barrelled ahead of him. His bag fell off his shoulder with a thud, and Stiles leaned forward to press his forehead against the cool wall of his entryway, simply breathing. 

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking all afternoon. Danny being  _ something _ supernatural had been the least of his worries. As he was supposed to be focusing in class and while he was ignoring the whispering teenagers and the too-long looks, he hadn’t been able to get his mind off of the others. He hadn’t seen them again, which probably meant that they’d ditched school for... something. Something bad? Something supernatural? Stiles hadn’t seen Erica or Boyd, either, which had something sharp and worrisome growing in his gut as the day went on. Were they okay? Should he have left them with Derek? 

Stiles didn’t know.  _ He didn’t know, _ and the uncertainty, the lack of knowing, made him feel like he was going to spiral out of his skin. 

Before he could get too worked up, strong arms wrapped around his waist. Deucalion’s palms settled on his stomach, his hand splaying wide as the heat of his body melded against Stiles’ back and held him close. 

“Hello, darling,” Deucalion mumbled against his neck, his warm, soothing baritone seeping into Stiles’ chest and making itself at home in his head. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, laughing quietly when Deucalion growled, pleased, against his throat. Stiles pushed off the wall to lean back against Deucalion instead, making a pleased noise of his own when the taller man tightened his hold around Stiles’ waist and held him steady. 

“You smell vile,” Deucalion muttered, and Stiles barked out a short laugh. 

“I missed you today,” Stiles whispered, the words hardly anything more than a breath of air as he tilted his head back and to the side to stretch out his throat. 

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart,” Deucalion told him, just as quiet, his nose brushing up and down the length of Stiles’ throat. A shiver raced down his spine, and he wrapped his own fingers around Deucalion’s wrists to hold on. “It was quiet without your chattering.”

“Mhm,” Stiles hummed as Deucalion’s stubble scraped against his throat. “I’m sure that was a nice change.”

“Not at all,” Deucalion said, and his voice was far more serious than Stiles had been expecting. “It was dreadful, being in such silence after I’ve become so accustomed to your noise.”

“Deuc,” Stiles whispered, squeezing Deucalion’s wrists until his fingers ached. 

God, that was almost too much. 

He let his eyes fall closed as he focused inwards. His heart was  _ racing, _ beating a quick, violent rhythm against his chest. Deucalion was so warm, warm enough that his heat was seeping into Stiles’ skin and making his blood feel like it was boiling. It was  _ exactly _ what he needed. Stiles focused on his bond, on the bright, burning live-wire that connected him to his Alpha. It still took Stiles’ breath away, having something so strong sat in the middle of his chest and connecting him to someone else, someone as strong and wonderful as Deucalion. 

Now, it was shining with a possessive sort of glee. Stiles snickered as he poked along the bond, feeling just how pleased Deucalion was to be layering Stiles over with his scent. Stiles pressed deeper, letting his magic take over and guide him through their connection, until he, until his  _ magic, _ could  _ feel _ Deucalion’s wolf and the way it was curled up around their bond, rumbling continuously as he nosed along the bright band of magic in its lap. 

“Deuc...”

“You amaze me more every day,” he said, and then, in Stiles’ mind's eye, his wolf stood, gave itself a little shake and looked  _ directly _ into his soul. 

Stiles took a shuddering breath as he slammed back into his own mind, digging his nails into Deucalion’s wrists as he took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Was that...”

“Yes, darling.” Deucalion sounded just as breathless, his face still tucked against his neck.  _ Jesus Christ, _ add  _ mind-melding _ to the list of things their bond was powerful enough for. 

Stiles turned around in the circle of Deucalion’s arms and looked up at him with wide eyes.  _ Oh, _ shit, Deucalion looked  _ good. _ His hair was all swoopy, free of the balm he used, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved that morning, either. He was wearing a button-down that fit  _ really _ well, and Stiles tucked his fingers into his collar, his knuckles brushing his throat. Thoughts of magical mind-melding and inner wolves flew from his brain as he took in the gentle smile on Deucalion’s face. 

“Oh, hello,” Stiles whispered, grinning when Deucalion let out a breathy chuckle, warm against his lips. 

“Hello, my darling boy,” Deucalion said quietly, which turned Stiles’ stomach over with heat. 

“Okay, that was rude,” Stiles muttered, before he leaned up to steal a kiss that Deucalion gave him easily. 

“Rude?” Deucalion asked against his lips.

“Do you have any idea how things like that make me feel?” Stiles whispered, pressing his thumb to the edge of Deucalion’s chin to bring him back down for another, longer kiss. 

Before their kiss could go any further, he heard a cry of joy from the kitchen, and then—

“Stiles!” he heard Cora shout, “Ennis has snacks!”

Stiles pulled back enough to rest his forehead against Deucalion’s cheek, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

“You’re my snack,” Stiles muttered, nipping at Deucalion’s jaw as the man threw his head back with a booming laugh. Stiles scrunched up his nose, moving his hands to Deucalion’s hips. “What? Was that not cute?”

Deucalion angled his head down at him with a short, pleased smile, and said, “That was adorable, darling.”

“Good,” Stiles said with a smile of his own, stealing one more, drawn-out kiss, before he finally stepped back. “I’m literally starving.”

Deucalion followed him with another, short laugh. Their hands found each other and their fingers twisted together easily, threading together in a comfortable way that left something warm unfurling in Stiles’ chest. 

Stiles’ heart still gave a little pang every time he saw people in his kitchen. It had just been him and his dad for  _ so long _ that seeing others in a space he and his mom used to spend so much time in, was... well, it meant a lot. It meant a lot that it was his pack, who he couldn’t help but care  _ so much _ about even after such a short time. 

Cora and Aiden were standing  _ very _ close together in the corner, with Ethan slouched over the island and on his phone. Ennis was leaning against the sink with an apron tied around his large frame that Stiles had  _ not _ owned before. It said “I HEART Werewolfs” in a flowy script, which was absolutely ridiculous. 

“Peter got it for your Dad,” Ennis said, snickering when Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. “What! I thought it was funny.”

On the counter was a huge bowl of chips and a proportionally large bowl of a dip that had steam rising from the top, and a pan of crispy, buttery-smelling bread. Holy  _ moly. _

“Did you make all of this?” Stiles asked, pulling his hand from Deucalion’s to get to the table quicker. 

“The chips are store-bought.” Ennis was pouting towards the half-full bag beside the fridge, his bond bothered. 

“Oh, the chips are store-bought,” Aiden mimicked sarcastically before he punched Ennis in the shoulder. “Dude, we don’t care. We just love that you cook for us.”

Stiles murmured something in agreement before he grabbed one of the warm slices of toast. He took a little nibble, and—yep, that was definitely homemade bread. Turning the piece around, Stiles pushed it into the baking dish of dip, breaking through the baked top. A rush of steam wafted up, and with it came a mouth-watering scent. 

“Oh my god this smells so good,” Stiles mumbled, before taking a huge bite and  _ moaning _ when salty, savoury,  _ cheesy  _ goodness hit his tongue. “Oh holy shit!”

“It’s good?” Ennis asked, a large smile on his face when Stiles dived in for another dip. 

“Holy shit, En, this is  _ awesome,” _ Stiles gushed, letting out another soft noise of pleasure as he swallowed down his second bite. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

“I was a chef,” Ennis said casually, but Stiles could tell from the heaviness around his eyes that there was more there.

Stiles didn’t push, and instead happily started munching away. He figured there was a reason Ennis wasn’t a cook anymore, and... actually, that probably had to do with his pack murdering his daughter. Okay, yeah, not pushing. Stiles got through another slice of bread before Ethan started eating with him, and they took turns digging for dip until they were out of bread, then moved on to the chips. 

Deucalion settled beside him, a steaming cup of tea in hand. 

“Do you want some?” Stiles asked, mouth full and words jumbled. 

“I’m alright, darling,” Deucalion told him sweetly, a hand resting on the small of his back. Stiles grinned up at him and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth. 

Ennis cleared his throat, and asked, “So, how was school?”

Stiles took a moment to marvel over the domesticity of it all, with Ennis feeding them chips and dip and asking about their day. Stiles wondered if  _ this _ was how a pack really worked. Not a rag-tag bunch of teenagers thrown together by circumstance. Not a hobbled-together group of Alphas who roamed around. But... like a family. 

Stiles would have to ask Peter, whenever he got home from wherever he was. 

He was swallowing down his most recent mouthful of chips and dip, when Cora cackled from her new spot on the counter. 

“The whole school thinks Stiles and Ethan are dating!” Cora announced with a shit-eating grin that made her look entirely too much like Peter for Stiles’ comfort.

Deucalion growled, low and loud, and Stiles stared at him for a silent moment before he burst out laughing so hard he bent over. 

By the time he calmed down, Deucalion was frowning at him with the most adorable pout that Stiles had  _ ever _ seen thrown across his lips. Stiles grinned, straightening up and turning to rest against the island, chips and dip forgotten in favour of a  _ much _ tastier snack. 

“Jealous-wolf,” Stiles teased, before he drew Deucalion down and into a kiss. Deucalion shuffled closer, moving to cage him in, and even with his eyes closed and his head tipped back, he could tell that Deucalion had moved to hold the counter beside his hips. Stiles broke the kiss to smile, hiding another laugh in Deucalion’s neck. “You are ridiculous,” he whispered, but he pushed the lump of warmth that had risen up from his belly and made him feel  _ breathless _ at Deucalion, so he’d be able to feel it too. 

“Mhm, only for you, darling,” Deucalion whispered into his hair, before giving the crown of Stiles’ head a short, sweet kiss. 

“Do you two have to do this in front of my food?” Ethan complained, which, judging by the way Deucalion went still and then slowly straightened up, was  _ not _ his best move. 

“Explain yourself,” Deucalion said evenly, staring Ethan down. 

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Dude, you  _ totally _ did something,” Aiden said with a grin that was far too wide for the situation at hand. 

“Oh my god, you’re all ridiculous!” Stiles said exasperatedly. He drew Deucalion’s face back to him, his fingers gentle against his cheek. “Ethan didn’t do anything more than be a wonderful packmate when I was nervous and scared. Don’t scare the children.”

“I  _ am _ older than you,” Ethan pointed out, but Stiles chose to ignore him in favour of giving Deucalion another kiss. 

“School was good,” Stiles said, as he pulled back and spun back around to face the others. Deucalion crowded against his back and once again caged him against the island, but Stiles wasn’t going to complain if it calmed his wolfy needs. “It was...”

“It sucked,” Aiden said, crossing his arms. “Classes are dumb, and Stiles was stressed all day.”

“Oka-ay.” Stiles drew the word out, frowning. “That was rude. Calling me out like that is rude. I wasn’t stressed!”

“Yes you were,” Ennis said easily, throwing Stiles a grin. “We were able to feel it.”

Stiles frowned, dropping his eyes to the table and sending thanks to Deucalion when the man hugged him tightly. He... yeah, he’d spent the afternoon thinking and, sure, stressed, but he hadn’t thought he’d been feeling badly enough for it to be so obvious to everyone else. 

Damn. That was awkward. 

“Seeing the others was harder than I thought it was going to be,” Stiles muttered under his breath. “It... brought up a lot.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Deucalion asked gently, and Stiles... 

Realized that he didn’t feel pressured or rushed. He could choose to tell them why he was worried or he could choose  _ not _ to, and they wouldn’t push him or make him feel bad about it either way. They wouldn’t make him share something, but they also wouldn’t judge him for what he had to share. He could say nothing or he could say everything, and it would be  _ okay,  _ because this pack, this thrown-together pack of Alphas and Betas with too-much damage to count, wouldn’t judge him. 

“Jackson is gone,” Stiles said quietly. “He was a beta, but... before that he was a Kanima. That was, like, a whole situation that really sucked. But I don’t know why he moved, or what happened to him.”

“Hale made a  _ Kanima?” _ Ennis asked harshly, looking over Stiles’ head at Deucalion. His eyes flashed, and a growl slipped out of his throat. “What the fuck.”

“I-Is that bad?” Stiles asked, glad for the warm weight of Deucalion’s arms on either side of him and the way they kept him grounded. 

“It’s bad for the Alpha,” Deucalion said quietly. His voice still carried. “For an Alpha to turn someone that becomes a Kanima... that does not look good for the Alpha in question. 

“No wonder Erica and Boyd ran away,” Cora muttered under her breath, her arms crossing over her chest. 

“Oh yeah... what was up with that?” Stiles asked, mind moving to the betas he’d been tortured alongside. “Why did you guys have them?”

“I ran across them when they were leaving town. They were pretty beat up, and healin’ like shit without a bond to an Alpha.” Ennis growled again, his eyes flashing once more. Stiles hadn’t ever seen him lose control like that. “We took ‘em in and got them cleaned up. They’re good kids. We were hopin’ to use them as leverage for Hale to give up his Alpha spark so we could get someone in here that knew what they were doing before your whole town found out about us.”

“Someone to come in here?” Stiles asked, his forehead scrunching up.

“We work alongside the council, darling,” Deucalion explained to the back of his head. “We were sent here by a committee of high-standing supernaturals, when we heard a feral Alpha was ravaging the town. Clearly... more happened.”

Stiles snorted. He had about a million and one questions, but he knew that now wasn’t the time. He could ask Deucalion what he wanted to know later, when they were alone. “You could say that, yeah.”

“So this... Kanima-turned-beta? He’s left town?”

Stiles shrugged. “Seems like it. Danny, his best friend, came up to me at lunch and asked me what I knew.” 

“What you knew?”

“Yeah. Danny thought that I knew something, or if not me, then the pack. Apparently they’ve been ignoring him? Well, Lydia, she’s been ignoring him, but I don’t know if the others have been ignoring him or just aren’t being helpful.  _ I _ don’t know anything, since they, you know, kicked me to the curb.”

Ethan shot a pulse of warmth to their bond, and Stiles looked up to meet his eyes with a warm, thankful smile. 

“He seemed to know a lot,” Cora pointed out, with a raised eyebrow. “Much more than I would expect, for a human.”

Stiles sucked in a breath, and then blew it out from between his teeth. “Oh, uh... yeah, about that? He’s not human.”

Deucalion stiffened behind him, but it was Ethan who reared back and asked, “Wait, what the hell do you mean?”

“Uh... my spark felt something? From him?” Stiles shrugged his shoulders, feeling helpless and out of his depth and hating it. “I don’t really know, but I do know that he  _ isn’t _ a human.”

“Well, it certainly sounds like the four of you had a very eventful day. Rumours, missing students and unidentified supernaturals. Oh my!”

“Eventful days all around, it seems like,” Ennis said, a smirk on his face. Stiles made a questioning noise, and tried to pull himself into the present and out of his whirling mind. “We found a place to live.”

“Wait what?” Stiles asked, jerking upright so fast that Deucalion swore and pulled back. “Sorry, babe, sorry, but  _ what? _ Y-You found somewhere to live?”

“We did.” Ennis’ smile was huge. “I think it’s fuckin’ awesome. You wanna go see it?”

All thoughts of his old pack, of Danny and whatever he was, of the weird darkness around Lydia that he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring up to anyone but Peter, at least not yet, fled his mind. It was much easier to focus on the possibilities that spread out before them than the past, and Stiles happily looked forward as he let his pack distract him from his day, a smile on his face. 

“Yes! Right now!” Stiles called, whirling around and kissing Deucalion quickly as he focused on the excitement that was bubbling up in his chest over the lingering worry and stress. He pushed a smile onto his face. “C’mon!” 

The others laughed, and the twins barrelled out of the kitchen together, knocking and shoving one another as Cora followed behind them, calmer. Ennis ruffled his hair as he walked by, and Deucalion pulled him into another kiss before they got moving. 

A new house! A new  _ pack _ house! That was definitely something Stiles would  _ happily _ focus on. 

* * *

Stiles was thrumming with excitement as he stared out the tinted window of Ennis’ jeep. He was  _ trying _ to sit still, really, but he was all but bouncing out of his seat as they drove through town. Ennis was driving the jeep, the twins and Cora in the back, and Stiles was  _ vibrating _ in the passenger seat. Kali, who had apparently been upstairs the whole time they were in the kitchen, drove behind them with Deucalion. Stiles had pouted at not being able to drive Deucalion’s shiny sports car, but had conceded when the Alpha pointed out that it would be easier for someone who knew where they were going to be the one driving, in case they got split up in traffic. 

Which had obviously meant that all the adults had been there already. When Stiles questioned Ennis, he admitted that Peter had found the place and that he’d taken everyone else to check it out during the day—which, rude! Stiles didn’t like being the last to find out about things, and even though the other teenagers were in the dark with him, he spent a few minutes pouting before he got too excited to keep it up. 

They drove all the way out to the warehouse district, which only further piqued Stiles’ curiosity. When Deucalion had first brought up their need to find somewhere bigger to stay, Stiles had spent a few hours scouring Beacon Hills listings. He hadn’t been able to find  _ anything _ that was suitable for all nine of them. He definitely hadn't found anything in the warehouse district, either, since there weren’t any houses out here. 

Stiles turned to Ennis and narrowed his eyes. “Are you planning on buying a warehouse for us to live in?”

Ennis laughed, shooting Stiles a quick smile before focusing on the road. “Just wait ‘n see, kid.”

“Okay... but if it’s anything like the bank, I’m going to curse you,” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow when Ennis turned to look at him. 

“Curse me?”

“Uh-huh! The bank was  _ awful. _ If you guys are suggesting another abandoned building, I’m going to take it as a personal affront,” Stiles told him seriously, nodding his head to add to the overall effect of his seriousness. 

Ennis fixed his eyes on the road and didn’t say anything. Stiles narrowed his eyes and pulled his spark closer to the surface of his skin, and let magic bleed into his eyes. Even though Stiles still wasn’t totally sure where the limits of his magic sat—or if there  _ were _ limits, which was kinda scary to think about—he figured he could at least  _ try. _ He knew how werewolves could tell if someone was lying. A blip in their heartbeat, the acidic scent of their sweat, chemosignals.

Stiles couldn’t tell any of those things, but maybe if he focused... 

“Aha!” Stiles called, jabbing Ennis’ bicep then pouting at his finger when the muscle didn’t give at all. Ennis might not be lying, but he  _ was _ nervous about something! “I knew it. Oh my god, why are you suggesting an abandoned building?”

Ennis grumbled something under his breath as Stiles stared at him. When it didn’t seem like the man was going to give anything else, Stiles slumped back into his seat and crossed his arms. Thankfully, it wasn’t a much longer drive until they turned off a street and drove between two buildings before the street opened back up. Deucalion’s car was already parked in the large parking yard situated right in front of a dirty, run-down building that looked to be five or six stories high, having passed them along the way. 

“Oh, absolutely not,” Stiles said, rushing out of the car the second Ennis had it in park and marching across the gravel to stop in front of Deucalion, who was the picture of calm despite their absolutely horrible surroundings. “This is not happening.”

“Stiles—”

“We are not living in another abandoned building! Bad Alpha!” Stiles reprimanded, reaching out and squeezing Deucalion’s hip. Deucalion slapped his hand away—why was everyone being so rude!—and frowned at him. 

But Stiles just frowned back, because the building in front of them was  _ not _ a suitable place for his pack to live! On top of being in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by big warehouses that nobody had used in years, the building looked... well it looked ugly. The parking lot was dusty and dirty, completely barren of any road markings. The front of the building was made of grey stone, differing in tone and creating a kinda interesting pattern broken up by a ton of large windows but nothing else. 

The front doors—while really big—were just silver metal, so they weren’t any nicer than the rest of the building. There wasn’t a pathway or any sort of overhang, just flat doors against a flat, square building. 

Then, suddenly, the front doors blew open and Stiles squeaked. 

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” Peter called, walking out through the front doors and startling Stiles so badly he almost fell over. Deucalion caught his arm and kept him standing, thankfully, but damn! Sneaky wolves! “I know it might not look like much from out here, but follow me.”

“Uh... Peter, I’m pretty sure if I follow you I’ll get, like, hepatitis or something. Are you sure it’s even  _ safe _ to follow you?”

Peter raised an eyebrow and looked  _ seriously _ unimpressed. “Pup, do you truly believe I would bring you here if it was  _ that _ dangerous?”

“No?” Stiles said, voice spiking. “But c’mon! Look at that place! Can we even live here? Like legally? No one lives out here!”

“Then we will continue to be trailblazers,” Peter told him seriously, not at  _ all _ joking, before he dramatically spun on his heel and went back through the still-open double doors. 

Stiles turned around to look at the other teenagers, and asked, “What is going on here?”

“Dude, I never have any idea,” Aiden said, before he threw an arm over Cora’s shoulders and snagged Ethan’s wrist before he marched all three of them across the pavement. 

Stiles whipped around to find Ennis laughing at him—again, why were they all being so rude!—and then watched him go, greet Kali with a kiss, and  _ also _ walk inside. Stiles looked back up at the... very tall and window-y warehouse (wait, maybe this was an apartment building?) and frowned. He tilted his head to the left, then to the right. He looked up and back down. Narrowing his eyes, Stiles brought his eyes to ground level and crossed his arms over his chest. 

It was just a big, grey, brick building! Sure, there were lots of nice windows, but from what Stiles could see through them, the place was empty! 

“Darling?” Deucalion asked gently, drawing Stiles’ attention back to him and holding out his hand. “Are you alright?”

Stiles stepped forward and went straight in for a hug. What was the point of having a hot, older, British werewolf mate, if you couldn’t get twenty-four-seven hug service? Stiles took a deep breath of his Alpha’s scent and let it settle the anxious racing of his heart. 

As the soothing feel of his mate took hold, Stiles let himself admit what was really wrong.

“Maybe I’m not as ready to move as I thought I was,” Stiles whispered into Deucalion’s chest, feeling his cheeks start to heat up with a burning blush. 

Deucalion held him tightly, running a soothing hand up and down his back in long strokes. Stiles pressed as close as he could and then closer still, wanting to melt into Deucalion’s skin.

“That is perfectly reasonable. You’ve lived in that house a long time, right?” Deucalion asked warmly, his words pressed against Stiles’ forehead and his breath warm.

Stiles nodded, but his heart rate didn’t slow down. 

“Hey, are you my boyfriend?” Stiles asked suddenly, something sharp and nervous in his belly.

He couldn’t move in with someone he wasn’t dating, right? Like yeah, sure, Deucalion was his Alpha and would  _ be _ his Alpha no matter what, but they’d been sharing a bed for weeks and Stiles  _ loved _ sharing a bed and he really,  _ really _ didn’t want to stop sharing a bed. Would they keep sharing a bed after they moved? Would Deucalion want space? Stiles didn’t want space, but maybe they  _ needed _ space? The idea of having to sleep alone every single night and not being able to tug Deucalion closer when Stiles’ woke up from nightmares was  _ horrible, _ but he would respect whatever Deucalion wanted even if it wasn’t what he wanted, because Deucalion was his mate, yeah, and that was good and it meant something but Stiles wasn’t sure what it meant and he—

“Darling, breathe,” Deucalion said softly, cupping Stiles’ face and angling him up for a kiss that stole his breath in an entirely different way and quieted the anxiety swirling around his mind. Against his lips, Deucalion said, “I would hardly consider us dating, sweetheart.”

That... didn’t help at all. “Okay, uh, I don’t know what to do with that.  _ Major _ mixed signals, babe?”

Deucalion chuckled kindly, which  _ still _ wasn’t helpful. When he pulled back, though, he was wearing the soft smile that Stiles hadn’t ever seen him wear around anyone else, which did kinda help. “I am not a teenager,” Deucalion said, and at least had the decency to cringe a little. 

“No, you aren’t,” Stiles whispered, which was something he tried not to think about it. Twenty-some years or not, there was a pull between them that Stiles absolutely couldn't deny, and one he knew he wouldn’t be able to lose. It was easier to just... not think about the age difference with the whole magical, werewolf mate thing. 

“I wouldn’t consider us ‘dating’, as you put it. Not with what I feel for you,” Deucalion said seriously, his voice heavy and his words full of promise. 

“That... is fair,” Stiles agreed. “I can’t exactly tell people you’re my mate, though.”

“Truthfully, you probably shouldn’t tell people I am your anything, darling. At least not for a few more years.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s another good point,” Stiles conceded. He could only  _ imagine _ what his dad would have to go through if it got out that Stiles, sixteen, was dating someone twice his age. Damn, the supernatural really complicated everything, huh?

“I don’t like change,” Stiles whispered after a moment of silence, staring up and wishing Deucalion wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

“Not many do,” the other man agreed, and his smile gentled as he said, “But this will be a good chance for us and our pack. Ethan has been sleeping on a couch for two weeks.”

Stiles dropped his head, and let it thud against Deucalion’s collarbone. The dude’s healing could handle it. “I know.”

Deucalion didn’t say anything else. He held Stiles in a tight hug, which was exactly what Stiles needed as he took a few more deep breaths before he was able to pull away. “Gah, I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing that you need to apologize for, darling,” Deucalion told him seriously. “You are my mate. I know that we haven’t discussed it much, not between ourselves, but I know you know what it means.”

“I do,” Stiles breathed, his heart tripping at the heaviness in Deucalion’s voice and the way the Alpha grabbed his hips. 

“Good. This is a life I want us to start together, Stiles. I understand being nervous—sweetheart, I am  _ terrified _ of trying to start over and turn this into a true pack, but... I have you by my side, as you have me. Together we are quite powerful, if you remember.”

Stiles nodded. He took one last deep breath before he pushed himself up so he was standing on his own. He ignored the twisting in his chest, and instead forced a smile. Sometimes he mourned all the things he didn’t get to do, the lives he didn’t get to live, but now wasn't the time for that bitterness. None of it was because of, or directed at, Deucalion, so it wouldn’t be fair to feel it now. 

Pushing back, Stiles swayed onto his heel before settling himself on his feet. Okay. Okay, he could do this. 

“Can’t we try to find somewhere prettier?” Stiles complained, even as he shifted his arm out for Deucalion to grab. 

“Give it a chance and hear Peter out.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he crossed the parking lot. The place really was  _ not _ very impressive from the outside, but as they got closer Stiles got more and more convinced that it  _ was _ an apartment building and not just an abandoned warehouse. 

“It’s... an apartment building?” Stiles asked, walking through the double doors and looking around.

The first thing that Stiles noticed was that it was  _ bright. _ Despite none of the little lights in the ceiling being turned on, enough light was streaming in through the front windows and open door that it was like they hadn’t even stepped inside. Deucalion let go of his arm, so Stiles turned in a circle and was... surprised. 

Straight ahead, there was an elevator that sat in a square space of wall, but other than that, it seemed like the entire ground floor was one open space. There was a set of double doors adjacent to the elevator but pressed against the right wall and a chute on the other side, but there was nothing else but open space. 

His steps were quiet on the dust-coated marble floors. As he turned in another circle, he almost expected to see some sort of reception area and... saw nothing. Nothing but blank, white walls and a (probably) white floor.

“What is this?” Stiles asked, walking over to where his pack was gathered near the mirrored elevator door. 

“It  _ was _ going to be Beacon Hill’s most elite condo building.” Peter’s voice echoed through the space eerily. “It didn’t sell enough units, and it was abandoned before it was furnished. I did some digging; structurally, this place is more than sound. Plumbing is completely taken care of, as is electrical even though it doesn't have any power right now. It would require quite a bit of work, but if we’re willing to invest I believe it would suit our needs better than anything else we could ever find.”

“You... you want us to move here?”

“Yes,” Peter told him seriously. He marched across the room to the set of double doors—silver, just like the front doors—and pulled them open to reveal a staircase. “It’s perfect for us.”

“How?” Stiles asked. He shared a look with Ethan when he walked over to him, and then followed after Peter with Deucalion at his side. “Step,” Stiles said quietly, and Deucalion squeezed his arm gently. 

Peter started walking up the stairs once the pack had caught up, looking back to speak with them. “The main floor can be set up to be a communal living space. In the back, there’s plumbing for a big kitchen. Restaurant-sized, actually. The rest of the room is, as you saw, open. We could have a communal pack dining area, and areas for lounging. We could easily fit a television and several couches in the front.

“There are twelve apartments inside.” Peter pushed open another set of double doors that opened into a hallway with dark, wooden floors and not much light. The walls were smooth and white, just like downstairs and all within the staircase. Straight ahead was a jut of cement that came out from the middle of the right wall, which must house the elevator. Stiles could see two large open doorways that were spilling sunlight into the hallway a few feet in front of him, and on the other side of the elevator, two more. On the opposite wall there was a cut-out that matched the one from below... a trash chute, maybe? The overhead lights were out. “This floor has four, one-bedroom, one-bath apartments.”

Peter kept walking and turned into the first apartment. 

He waited for the rest of the pack to pile in. It was... empty. Like,  _ empty _ empty. 

There was a huge window on the left wall, which seemed like it could house a kitchen from the different ports Stiles saw already in the wall. More dark wooden floors that would probably be nice if they were clean, and white, empty walls. 

“That’s the bedroom.” Peter pointed at the doorway on the right side of the room. “The other one,” Peter’s arm swung to the door on the left side, “is a bathroom, which also has a connecting door to the bedroom. All four apartments on this floor are like this.”

Aiden made an excited noise and crossed the room to open the door to the bedroom. Stiles’ couldn’t see inside, but Aiden stepped in and called out, “Holy shit, this is actually huge.”

“Indeed. The floor above us has four units with two-bedrooms and one-bath each, however, the bedrooms are both a bit smaller than the one here.” 

Aiden wandered back out and raised an eyebrow at Ethan, whose bond lit up with something like longing before it went silent. Stiles’ forehead creased in a frown, but he didn’t say anything right then. 

“What about the other floors?” Stiles asked, wandering over to look out the huge window that would back the kitchen.

There... wasn’t much of a view, but they got a lot of really nice sunlight.

“The third floor has two apartments with two-bedrooms and two-baths. One of the bedrooms is a master with an ensuite, while the other one is just a regular-sized room. The last floor has two apartments with three-bedrooms and two-baths, a master with an ensuite, again, and then two regular-sized bedrooms, which happen to be the same size as the ones on the second floor.

“All the walls are quite thick. Not soundproofed completely, though we could do that magically if not structurally in the bedrooms and bathrooms. Like I said, the electricity and plumbing is already set up throughout the whole building. We’d need appliances and _a_ _lot_ of paint, but that and some furnishing and... well, we’d have a pack home.”

There was a heaviness to Peter’s voice that made Stiles’ chest ache. He crossed the room to pull his beta into a tight hug, immediately tucking Peter’s face into his neck. Through the tangle of bonds in his chest, he could tell the others were feeling a similar sort of longing. Stiles pushed as much comfort towards everyone as he could, but he could tell that Peter was feeling the most off-centred when he took a deep, shaking breath of Stiles’ scent. 

He held Peter for another moment until the Beta straightened out. His eyes were red but dry, and he gave Stiles a grateful smile that he returned easily even as he pulled away. 

Peter cleared his throat and asked, “What do we think?” 

There were murmurs of excitement from the pack, and the consensus seemed to be that everyone loved it. Stiles bit into his bottom lip, and looked towards his Alpha helpless. 

“Why don’t you all go look around?” Deucalion asked, raising a heavy eyebrow when there was a moment of hesitation before the others started moving. 

Stiles watched the rest of his pack walk out the door with his arm around Peter’s waist, and let out a heavy breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He looked around the room again, at the big windows and plain, white walls, and suddenly felt overwhelmed. 

“We need to make a decision, darling,” Deucalion told him seriously. “It will be up to us, along with your father and Peter, to decide where we move.”

“Wait... why us?” Stiles asked, scrunching his nose together. “Like, I get  _ us _ with the whole Alpha and Emissary thing, but why Peter and Dad?”

“Peter is tied to this land. He’s our connection, so where our pack settles, where we start to grow roots, needs to be somewhere he feels comfortable. And your father, well... truthfully we do not need to take his opinion into account at all, but I’d rather stay on his good side for you, darling.”

“Oh,” Stiles felt his cheeks get warm as a dopey smile spread across his face. “And Dad approves?”

“Yes. He’s the one who found the leasing agency. We can buy the building, if it’s what we decide on.”

Stiles took in the easy, pleased smile on Peter’s face, and felt his stomach twist. “Do... do we really need all this?”

“Well, John and myself want a place to start a life together. We’ll be calling dibs on one of the three-bedrooms, so we can each have a home office alongside the master. Ennis has expressed wanting one of the two-bedrooms on the third floor for him and Kali, which leaves one of each for you and Deucalion to decide between, and the twi—”

“W-Wait me and Deucalion?” Stiles asked, his voice rising in pitch until it was a  _ squeak _ as he cut Peter off. He whirled around to stare at his Alpha, his eyes wide as Deucalion stared back at him calmly. “We need our own luxury apartment?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say we  _ need _ it, but it certainly would be nice to have a space of our own,” Deucalion told him quietly, his face tilted towards Stiles.

“A-A space of our own,” Stiles repeated, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Alright, we decided we were dating twenty-minutes ago, but that’s cool. Yeah, that’s groovy.” Stiles spun around and shook out his arms, ignoring Peter’s teasing smile as he tried to get his heart rate under control. Then, he whirled back around to say, “Uh, wait a minute, I’m still a minor? My dad might not even let me move out!”

Deucalion  _ growled, _ which was utterly ridiculous, and Peter let out a roaring laugh that did  _ not _ help at all. The hand he placed on the back of his neck did, though. “Pup, your father wants a three-bedroom so each of us can have a home office. Where do you expect to stay in that set-up?”

Stiles’ eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Peter agreed, tugging him into his side. “Explaining to your father what it meant that he was my mate went a long way towards him understanding what that meant for you two.”

Stiles cuddled closer, always happy from some warm beta snuggles from his wolf-Dad, and said, “I’m happy you told him. Not just ‘cause I apparently get to move in with my hot, British mate, but ‘cause you guys are really in love.”

“Do  _ you _ want to move in with your ‘hot, British mate’?” Deucalion asked. There was something heavy in his voice, and when Stiles turned to look, he was standing tense. At once, Stiles was absolutely certain that if he said no, that if wanted a one-bedroom, or even one of the two-bedrooms upstairs, Deucalion wouldn’t utter a single protest. 

That made it  _ so _ easy to cross the room and pull him into a warm, sweet kiss. “I can’t think of anything that sounds more perfect,” Stiles muttered against his lips, excitement bubbling outside of his chest and no-doubt leaking across his bonds. Deucalion wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist and kissed him back, kissed him so hard that Stiles had to lean back in the cradle of his arms before he broke it with a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m going to get to live with my hot, British mate!”

“Yes, lots of fun all around,” Peter called, amused, and when Stiles turned to look at him, he was grinning just as widely as Stiles. 

“This... this is amazing,” Stiles breathed, looking at Peter with awe when it set in that  _ this  _ was going to be their new home. “How did you find this all?”

“Yes, it’s rather wonderful. It wasn’t where I started looking, mind you, but I stumbled upon a lease online and, as I said, your father helped me work out the details.” 

Stiles pulled out of Deucalion's arms to throw himself at Peter, another laugh bubbling out of his throat when his beta caught him and spun him around. Peter sat him down, and said, “I’m glad you like it, pup.”

“It’s perfect,” Stiles told him, smiling so wide his cheeks ached. He looked back at Deucalion, at the same wide smile on his face, and laughed  _ again. _

God, it  _ was _ perfect. The perfect pack home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are! two months, two chapters :blobcheer:
> 
> I've been editing _With You, I Belong_ over the last couple of months! a few changes have been made, and I'll definitely leave a note here once it's all done! you might notice the word count has grown... that's why ;p if you're wondering what Stiles means when he references the first time Deuc mapped out his face - go give chapter nine a reread!

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> kudos aren’t the same as getting a comment, not even close. so a comment, as short and sweet or as sprawling and sporadic as you can manage, would be _greatly_ appreciated! don't know what to comment? how about _”this was great!”_ or _“awesome work!”_


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